


Half-Assing It

by americanphancakes



Series: Zero's Spotify 2019 songfics [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dan Howell Is Not A YouTuber, Depression, Existential Crisis, Gay Bar, Implied/Referenced Sex, Light Angst, M/M, One Night Stands, Strangers to Lovers, Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:00:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21702598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americanphancakes/pseuds/americanphancakes
Summary: Dan's brain decides it's sick of this gray-beige life, and it takes him out of his comfort zone.A little "wouldn't it be nice if love killed depression" fantasy inspired by "Rush Job" by Sheena Ringo.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Series: Zero's Spotify 2019 songfics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564297
Comments: 14
Kudos: 29





	Half-Assing It

**Author's Note:**

> So I REALLY need to get back in the habit of writing every day. In order to do that, I said on tumblr "send me a number from 1-100 and I'll choose the corresponding song on my Spotify top 100 for the year & write a fic based on that."
> 
> So far I have 4 fics to write, and the first one (this one) is done!
> 
> Requested by that saucy little minx allthephils: number 69. :P This is unbeta'd cuz it's about speed & habit, not perfection, but maybe I'll come back and edit later.

Just for a change of scenery, Dan rocked back in his uncomfortable corporate desk chair and looked up at the paneled ceiling. There was a paper clip stuck in the corner of one of them. Probably from last year’s holiday decorations. Or perhaps the year before. Who knows.

The panels were that sort of light gray off-white beige color everything seemed to be these days. The walls. The desktop PC cases. The seats on the train. Pavement. Pavement everywhere was that same indistinct color. The least offensive color in the universe. The color of nothing, and the color of everything.

Dan wondered if last year’s holiday decorations added any visual interest to the gray space. He surmised that no, probably not.

He looked back down at the stack of papers on his desk and zoned out. The phone rang, and there was no customary squeezing of his chest, no sweaty palms. It was like the sound was a million miles away this time. It was like the give-a-shit circuits in his brain had shorted out.

_ I can’t take this anymore. There is more to life than this and god dammit I have to go look for it right this second. _

He rose from his chair and gathered his keys and phone and jacket with quiet deliberation -- or at least, that was how it appeared from the outside. In truth, he was on autopilot, letting his feet carry him out the door to the sound of confused coworkers asking if he was leaving for the day and receiving no answer.

***

When he was finally back in control of himself again, Dan was leaning forward against a bar. A quick look around and Dan saw that the place was still sparsely populated, so it must have been early, but there was a stage (clearly no one was slated to play live tonight) and gay couples were making out in corners. Oh, okay. So he’d gone to some sort of gay club. Not something he typically did. Ever. Clubs were far too peopley. But he figured his brain was sick of the everyday, and Dan was alone every day. This was a sharp and possibly hazardous overcorrection, but Dan figured he’d roll with it. Not like it mattered anyway.

He wondered what time it was, though.

“What can I get you?” 

“Um…” Dan was about to mentally go through a list of drinks he already knew and choose the least dangerous one, but ultimately decided that would defeat the purpose of this little adventure his brain had chosen to take him on. “Surprise me,” he said.

“Yes sir!” the bartender said, a bright grin on their face.

***

The drink was sweet and bitter both at once, and he didn’t especially like or hate it. He downed it like it was water in a desert, though. The club was starting to fill up by the time he finished, and he couldn’t tell if the music had gotten louder or if he was merely hearing more of it now that the alcohol had opened his ears and white-noised his brain.

“Hi,” Dan heard a voice say.

He turned his head toward the source of the melodious greeting and was struck by a view of bright blue eyes mischievously twinkling.

“Uh… hi,” Dan said back, like a fucking idiot.

The man smirked. Noticing the movement, Dan’s eyes zoomed down to his mouth as if they were made of iron and that mouth was a god damned electromagnet. Normally, at this point, Dan would quickly zoom his brown eyes back up to the man’s blue ones, but instead he lingered on the man’s mouth for a long time. Far too long.  _ Okay, Dan, time to look back up. _

The man chuckled when Dan’s eyes finally met his again. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Dan.”

“I’m Phil.”

“Hi Phil.”  _ He’s fit and I sound like a moron. _

“What are you drinking?”

“Oh, uh…” Dan looked at his empty glass. “I don’t actually know. I think the bartender told me, but…”

“Mind if I surprise you with something, then?”

“Fuck it, sure.”

Phil the Blue-Eyed Ray of Sunshine ordered Dan a drink that Dan promptly forgot the name of again. The two of them drank and talked, mostly about bullshit like the music and television they both enjoyed, and Dan realized that for how much alcohol was in his system, he had a shockingly high amount of control over what came out of his mouth. Something about Phil made him feel at ease with just being honest rather than playing the role of the Ideal Dan like he usually felt the need to do.

“So what brought you here tonight?” Phil asked.

“I’m a twenty-eight year old hopelessly single university dropout with a thankless career and I really need to get laid.”

Phil burst out laughing. “That, uh… that’ll do it, I suppose!”

Dan found himself genuinely smiling at the nearly ridiculous cliche nature of his situation. “Yeah, that’ll do it.”

“Sounds like you should come here more often, then. I’m here every Friday night, I’ve never seen you.”

Dan decided to ignore Phil’s obvious rephrase of the classic ‘do you come here often’ line. “Is that what day it is?” he mused honestly. “They all sort of blend together for me lately.”

“Yes, it’s Friday. And because it’s Friday, my friends who pity me for my singleness have dragged me over here again in the hopes that I bring someone home.”

“And how do you normally fare?”

Phil shrugged. “Don’t know. I don’t typically approach anyone.”

Dan smiled. “Oh, so I’m special then?”

Phil raised his eyebrows and nodded confidently. “Yeah.”

Dan’s smile faded a bit and he narrowed his eyes. “Are you, like… not really here?”

Phil laughed. “What, like am I a pink elephant or something?”

“A what!?”

“Pink elephant! Like in Dumbo when he got drunk and saw visions of pink elephants. Remember the song?”

“Oh yeah.” Dan blinked, pausing for a moment to recollect the movie. “Yeah, are you a pink elephant?”

“Not last I checked. Here, you can even poke my cheek to prove I’m real.” Phil leaned forward and turned his head slightly.

Dan just looked at him. “Are you serious right now?”

“Yes! Poke my cheek.”

Dan did, and they both laughed.

Dan felt weird. Like there was a tiny spark inside his chest that had failed to catch fire properly for years, and now, like a birthday candle, it was beginning to catch, but the fire wasn’t quite taking. There were moments of glow so fleeting he wasn’t sure it was even happening. But the memory of the warmth would hold on and thaw Dan’s heart ever so slightly.

It tingled a bit. He wasn’t sure if he liked it yet.

“See?” Phil said. “Real. Well. As real as your finger, anyway.”

“How do we know my finger’s real?”

“I dunno. Maybe bend it backward and see if it hurts?”

Dan smirked a bit. “It probably wouldn’t, honestly. Nothing bothers me anymore. Nothing really makes me happy either.”

Phil frowned. “I’m sorry,” he said, not prying any further but hoping Dan knew he was still willing to listen.

“It’s whatever,” Dan said with a shrug. He stopped there, not wanting to unload his emotional problems on this kind, attractive stranger.

They stood there in silence that should have been awkward but wasn’t. Dan wasn’t sure if he was genuinely comfortable or if he just didn’t care enough to feel uncomfortable.

“D’you want to get out of here?” he asked Phil in a sudden onset of the autopilot mode that brought him here.

“Do you?” Phil asked hesitantly.

“I won’t know for sure until I do it,” Dan said, being honest.

“Fair enough.”

***

Phil was incredible in bed. Dan knew this, in the logical half of his brain, based on times in the past when he’d slept with very talented and passionate people. Phil did everything right. If Dan had been able to truly enjoy himself, he would have. Immensely. So he moaned and yelled and called Phil’s name like he was supposed to, and like he knew Phil deserved, and physically he felt satisfied at the end of the night. Phil fell asleep promptly afterward with his arm draped over Dan’s torso, leaving Dan awake and stressing over tomorrow morning. He wished Phil had been a dick so he wouldn’t feel bad about breaking his heart by kicking him out in the morning.

***

If last night had been Friday, then today was probably Saturday, Dan reasoned. Not like it mattered. It was a day that ended in y, therefore it was… y’know. Not bad, but not great either.

And then there was Phil. Still snoring lightly, but now turned to face away from Dan.

Dan was starting to feel attached to Phil after only one night, and he couldn’t have that. That was dangerous. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to think of the best way to say  _ hey, I had a great time last night, or at least I would have if I were capable of feeling ‘great time,’ but I unfortunately have to kick you out now or else risk breaking your heart with my inability to properly care for you later. _

Before Dan could decide on the least rude wording he could use, Phil stirred. He breathed in slowly as he turned his head toward Dan, his eyes fluttering open. That blue was the same color as a clear sky, or a sparkling freshwater lake, or one of those shiny butterflies.

He smiled. Dan smiled back. Not sadly, either. He actually just… smiled. Seeing Phil’s eyes in the light of the morning was oddly calming. Nice. Actually nice.

Phil’s eyes widened brightly upon seeing Dan’s smile. “Can I poke your cheek?”

“What? Why?”

“You have a dimple!”

“Um… I guess?” Dan chuckled nervously as he turned his head a bit and forced a small grin to present the dimple in question. Phil poked it and made a boop sound. Dan’s next smile wasn’t forced.

“So what’s the verdict?” Phil asked. “Did you want to leave the bar with me last night?”

Dan broke the eye contact with Phil and looked back up at the ceiling again. It had a nice eggshell color to it that he hadn’t noticed before.

“I think… maybe, yeah.”

“Still not sure yet?”

“I don’t think I’ll be sure for awhile.”

“Mind if I help you figure it out?”

Dan’s eyes closed, as though holding back tears even though he didn’t feel like crying. It was like they were holding back all the emotions, or all the lack of emotions Dan knew he was meant to be having.

Phil was too nice. Dan didn’t want to hold Phil back, and he knew he would. Putting effort into having something with another person wasn’t worth it. It was safer to just half-ass it. To not try. That way, when it was over, it wouldn’t hurt so badly. It wouldn’t feel like so much wasted time.

But Phil deserved better than that. He was so kind. Considerate. He didn’t judge. He listened. He deserved someone more… normal.

“You should go,” Dan said.

“Do you want me to?”

Dan was quiet for a moment. He didn’t look at Phil. His eyes moved down to the toes of his right foot, peeking out from under the duvet. His toes blurred as his eyes gave up on focusing.

_ Yes, _ said his internal voice.  _ Yes, I want you to go. I need you to go. You need to go. It’s for your own good. _

“No,” his mouth said.

He looked at Phil. Phil looked back.

“Then I won’t go.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: @americanphancakes (feel free to send me a number if you like, I'm working on 3 more fics so far)
> 
> "Rush Job"  
> Lyrics: Sheena Ringo  
> English Translation by me. :)
> 
> Every day, my toughest enemy invades: The ringing of the phone.  
> It’s not long before all I want to sense is quiet.
> 
> Even with all this traffic, they call it a “freeway,” but it’s more like a “trappedway,” isn’t it?  
> That logic is counter to reality, but we obey it unquestioningly.
> 
> Nothing seems to be good enough  
> I can’t feel any indignation either.  
> What day was it today?  
> Not like it matters really…  
> Ugh, I wish I could experience pain.
> 
> Consistently taking everything in moderation has snatched away my curiosities & interests.  
> Or maybe I could try just getting by with sex, but that’s not much of a plan, is it?
> 
> Please, manipulate me.  
> I’m so bored it’s actually starting to piss me off.  
> What time is the last train on the Ginza line?  
> Not like it matters really…  
> Ugh, I wish I could turn into a machine.
> 
> Hey… what does “love” mean?  
> I can’t seem to remember  
> I can’t seem to remember


End file.
